


First Rate Fall

by Brumeier



Series: Gay Paree, 1920s [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Bicycles, Established Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Minor Injuries, Paris (City), Picnics, Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: Rodney is waiting for John at the finish line of theCourse de Passe-Temps, and it ends up just as he was afraid it would.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: Gay Paree, 1920s [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816114
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44
Collections: What If? AU Challenge





	First Rate Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for whatif_au: sports

“This is incredibly dull,” Rodney said with a sigh.

He was sitting on a folding chair under an umbrella, trying to stay out of the sun. He and the others were set up alongside the finish line, banners snapping in the strong breeze. 

“It’ll be better once the riders get here,” Evan said. 

He’d been sketching all day, quick line drawings of some of the spectators crossing the finish line in various ridiculous poses. He had a little box set out for donations, not much different from the food vendors and balloon salesmen that were also making the most of the assembled crowd at the _Course de Passe-Temps_.

The downside of watching a bicycle race was the inability to see all but one small part of it. It would be written up in the papers the next day, but apart from driving alongside the cyclists, there was no way to see the whole of it in its entirety.

Rodney wondered how John was getting on. It wasn’t nearly the _Tour de France_ , but the other participants had seemed suitably athletic. Of course, none of them had looked as good as John in his cycling shorts and tank top.

“Have another glass of wine,” Teyla suggested.

She’d brought a picnic basket that also included fresh-baked bread, a selection of cheeses, and fruit. Rodney took her up on the offer of wine and had her slice him off another hunk of the Cantal.

Rodney had brought his notebook. Well, he always brought the notebook. But he’d already grown tired of improving the aerodynamics of the racing bicycle, and he found himself unable to focus because he was too worried about John. What if he fell off that infernal bicycle and got run over by the others? What if he pedaled himself into a tree or a wall?

While he was thinking about all the harm that could befall John in the midst of the race, he had plenty of brainpower to expend on continuing to try and work out why John was even with him in the first place. They had very little in common, aside from the fact that they were both bent. Athletics, for one example. John’s unrefined taste in music for another.

How long would it be before John realized he’d made a mistake? How long before he realized he could do better?

The swelling roar of the crowd alerted Rodney to the incoming cyclists. He got to his feet and shaded his eyes, looking for John.

“Do you see him?”

“Not yet,” Evan replied.

The first two cyclists came into view, seemingly neck-in-neck. Neither one was John.

“La première place revient à Jean-Pierre Lagrange!” the announcer said over the speaker system.

There was a lot of cheering, but Rodney didn’t care about Lagrange. He watched as more of the cyclists rolled in over the finish line, all of them looking sweaty and tired. None of them was John, either.

“I knew it. He biked off a cliff.”

“There are no cliffs in Paris,” Teyla said calmly. “Perhaps he merely suffered a flat tire.”

John eventually crossed the finish line, the only one not still astride his bicycle. He was limping along beside it, blood running down one leg and a large red scrape on his shoulder.

“I knew it! I knew something terrible happened!” Rodney was at John’s side in an instant, tutting over his injuries. “Did you get hit by a truck?”

“I’m fine,” John replied, looking disgusted. “A squirrel ran out in front of me and I overcompensated trying not to hit it.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Rodney kept his touch gentle. It looked like John had a gash near his knee, nothing too deep but there was dirt embedded in it that would need to be cleaned out. Same with the scrape on his shoulder. The scarring on John’s arm looked inflamed, but that might’ve just been from the physical exertion.

“I’m fine,” John repeated.

“Did you hit your head?” Rodney poked through John’s cowlicks, looking for any lumps or bumps they might have been hiding, but John ducked out of the way.

“Will you stop that?”

“I am sorry you could not finish the race,” Teyla said consolingly. She handed John a waxed paper cup of water from one of the vendors.

“I would’ve won,” John said. He drank half the water and poured the rest over his head. “Well, top three maybe.”

“Yes, you’re the cat’s pajamas, we all know. Give Evan that deathtrap and let’s get you home.”

Evan obediently took charge of John’s bicycle, which was a bit scratched but otherwise unharmed. John took advantage of Rodney’s sympathy and leaned heavily against him, uninjured arm thrown over Rodney’s shoulders.

“You’ll have to find a less dangerous sport,” Rodney chided. “No more of this bicycling.”

“How about horse racing?”

“No.”

“Boxing?”

“Don’t be a sap,” Rodney said, refusing to be baited. “I was thinking more along the lines of golf. I hear that’s very low risk.”

John snorted. “Clearly you’ve never seen Bobby Jones play. But if you want me to learn the game –”

“We can talk about it later.”

They caught a tram back to Rue de Pégase, where Rodney could properly take care of John’s injuries. And at the soonest possible moment, he’d get rid of that infernal bicycle.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** I couldn't help coming back to the 'verse, despite the constant need for words and sentences in a language I don't know. ::grins:: Also, I know nothing about bike races, so why not write that too? LOL! I just love my boys in Paris!


End file.
